


Bitter Smoke

by IT_GIRL_RH



Category: Radiohead (Band)
Genre: Angst, Drug Use, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-19
Updated: 2010-01-19
Packaged: 2018-10-16 12:22:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10571226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IT_GIRL_RH/pseuds/IT_GIRL_RH
Summary: Even though they've promised each other that they won't fool around anymore, Colin finds himself in some back hallway waiting for Thom again.





	

  


 

  
Summary: Even though they've promised each other that they won't fool around anymore, Colin finds himself in some back hallway waiting for Thom again.  
Rating: Adult  
Categories:  radiohead slash  
Characters:  Colin, Thom  
Genres: Angst  
Pairings: Thozzie  
Warnings: Drug Use  
Completed: Yes   
**Disclaimer:**This is fiction. I do not own nor pretend to know anything about Radiohead. This is just a bit of fun and I, in no way, intend any harm to anyone, especially to Radiohead.  


 

Thom is staring at me, has been all night. I know what it means. I know what he's thinking. I know what's coming next. But we promised each other, I promised myself, that it wouldn't happen again. We promised not to fall into that trap again. But right now I want to. I want it. I want him. And he wants me. I can see it in his eyes. Even from across the room, I can see it.

So I excuse myself from the interesting conversation that I confess I lost all interest in about five minutes ago when Thom smiled that smile at me from over his glass of beer and I smiled my smile back at him. I slip out the side door and lean against the wall in an empty hallway. After a few minutes, I tap a cigarette out of the pack and pull out my lighter. I do this all very slowly because I don't really want a smoke. That's not why I'm here. This is all just pretense, a pantomime in case someone else walks down this hall before he does. But I can only play at this for so long. Eventually, I'll have to accept that Thom isn't coming. Then I'll light the cigarette and smoke it in defeat like I've done before. Like I've done about half of the times I've found myself waiting in empty places for Thom. Okay. More than half.

I stand there staring at the cigarette for I don't know how long. It feels like an hour. It's probably more like two minutes. I regret coming out here, giving into him so easily. I'm a grown man now, a Cambridge graduate. I should have more self-control, more conviction than that. I purse my lips and stare accusingly at the cigarette. I decide something. This cigarette is my deadline. Yes. This time, if Thom comes out after it is lit, he will be too late. As soon as this cigarette is lit, I won't give in to him or to my desires. I've made up my mind. I'm resolute.

He'd better come out soon. I shift my weight. I count to one hundred. Then I count to one hundred in French. I start to count to one hundred in Italian but decide I'm being silly and stop before I reach twenty.

I pop the cigarette into my mouth and flick on the lighter. I don't light the cigarette. I stare at the flame. I watch it flicker until it starts to burn my thumb and I let it go out. I remove the cigarette from my lips. I find myself staring at it again. I think I hate it.

I decide to wait a little longer. I tell myself I'm not waiting for Thom now, it's just that I don't want to go back to the party yet. I don't feel much like a party anymore. I look down the hall away from the direction of the muffled sounds of fascinating people enjoying themselves. Maybe I should find another way out and head back to the hotel. I look back at the cigarette, a little wet stain from my saliva on the tip. I do hate it.

Maybe Thom didn't see me slip out. Maybe he's looking for me. Maybe he's already left for the hotel. Maybe he doesn't care where I am. Maybe he's stronger than me. Maybe he's not giving in this time. Maybe I'm an idiot and I should go back to the fabulous party and stop mooning over a man I can never really have and that I don't really know if I would ever really want to have in the first place.

I twirl the cigarette between my fingers. I slide the lighter back into my pocket. I look down the hall to the door that leads back to the party that I should be enjoying at this very moment. I can see my tiny distorted upside down reflection in the shiny metal doorknob. I only know it's me because there's no one else here. I'm all alone. I stop fiddling with the cigarette. No one is coming. Thom isn't coming.

I pull the lighter back out of my pocket. I put the cigarette back into my mouth. I watch my upside down reflection flick on its upside down lighter. I sigh. I close my eyes and light the cigarette. It tastes foul. It is all stale and bitter ashes in my mouth. I'm not going to enjoy this cigarette. I don't want to. I lean back against the wall and smoke it down to the filter, hating every single drag. I wish I could still choke dramatically on the smoke like I did in high school but my lungs are too jaded. I've smoked far too many of these bitter cigarettes in empty hallways in my life. Not all of them while waiting for Thom, but most. If I'd ever admit it to myself.

I tell myself again, for the thousandth time, that smoking is bad for me. I promise myself that I will quit smoking, too. I think I might really mean it this time.  
 


End file.
